


Taking Care

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Read My Lips [48]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/">comment_fic</a> prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, John takes Rodney home to meet his family". Tag to Outcast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care

When Sam caught John, Rodney, and Evan in the hallway with bad news, none of them knew what to expect. The death of John’s father hadn’t even been on Rodney’s mind - he’d assumed it was something expedition-related, like they were being recalled to Earth to help with...something now that Sam and Rodney were both in the Pegasus Galaxy.

A shadow crossed John’s face, but he nodded. Sam told him she’d arranged for a week of emergency leave. Of course, Rodney could go with him.

Of course, Evan would go with him too.

Evan packed fastest, because he was a soldier and a boy scout and just always prepared like that. John packed more slowly, because he was moving lethargically, kept pausing and blanking out, and eventually Rodney sat down beside John on his bed, put an arm around his shoulders and held him while Evan finished packing for the both of them.

John had gone to visit his family back when they’d been kicked out of Atlantis and thought they were stuck Earthside forever. Rodney had offered to go with him, but John had declined. He loved Rodney, and he’d told his family about Rodney, and he didn’t want Rodney to have to endure his father.

His father, who’d blamed John for what happened to his mother.

His father, who was now dead.

As soon as they were packed, Sam had Chuck fire up the Stargate. They spent their quarantine at the Midway Station in quiet patience. John was silent, lost in thought, staring into space. Evan had met John’s family many times in his capacity as John’s personal interpreter, and he told Rodney everything he could. Dave loved John, had done his best to protect John from his father, but in doing so had put some distance between himself and John, making himself the frontline for all of Patrick Sheppard’s expectations. Kathy was gracious, fond of John. Dave’s nieces adored John, because they had no other aunts or uncles.

The Sheppards were ridiculously wealthy. Rodney had assumed, upon seeing John’s apartment and hearing his explanation of how it had come about, that John was independently wealthy because of his mathematical genius in solving a Millennium Problem. Apparently John was one of the Sheppard Utilities Sheppards, and when his mother died he’d inherited a trust fund he’d never touched (he donated the annual interest to charities directed toward helping the deaf community), and now he was set to inherit so much more, including a share in the company.

“He won’t take it,” Evan said. “The plan was always for Dave to buy him out.”

Rodney glanced at John, who was hunched over on his bunk and staring at his hands. “Will he be all right?”

“You’d know better than me,” Evan said.

Back on Earth, one of the SGC’s minions, who handled mundane things like making sure Earthside bills were paid and making sure driver’s licenses and passports and other necessities didn’t lapse, arranged for the three of them to have a ride to the airport, where they had tickets to Virginia waiting for them.

When they arrived at the airport in Virginia, laden down with duffel bags and garment bags filled with freshly-cleaned dark, somber suits (Evan had his dress service blues), Rodney fumbled for his wallet to hire a cab, but there was a man in a dark suit holding a sign that said “Sheppard”.

Evan spotted it first, and Rodney herded John toward it.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sheppard,” the man said, and he was dressed like an actual chauffeur. Evan dumped his bags on Rodney and immediately shifted into interpreter mode. “You’ll be staying at the house.”

Rodney blinked. “I thought the minion said we had hotel reservations.”

“The car is this way,” the chauffeur said.

The car was dark, sleek, and obviously expensive, one step down from an actual limo. Evan sat up front with the driver, leery after the time Rodney had been kidnapped the last time he was Earthside.

John sat right next to Rodney, their sides pressed together.

When they arrived at the house, Rodney could only stare. First there was a wrought-iron gate, and then wide green lawns, actual horse paddocks and a stable, and the house itself was sprawling. Massive.

“Is the house where you were raised?” Rodney asked.

“One of them.” John signed without moving his lips. Damn. He was in a bad place.

“It’s...big,” Rodney said finally.

“I couldn’t wait to get out,” John said.

The chauffeur dropped them off right at the front door. John was halfway out of the car when the front door opened, and there he was, Dave Sheppard, in the flesh. Apart from the fact that he was dark-haired and ridiculously handsome, he didn’t look anything like John. Rodney knew John took after his mother. Dave, then, must have inherited his square jaw and blue eyes from their father.

Dave was wearing a button down shirt and slacks, looked like a GQ escapee. He had his hands in his pockets and watched the three of them tumble out of the car and onto the driveway.

Rodney tapped John’s shoulder, pointed, and John lifted his head. John signed, “Dave,” which looked like a square made out of the letter D.

Dave smiled then, and he descended the front steps, pulled John into a gentle embrace.

“Evan Lorne, long time no see,” Dave said. He looked Evan up and down, took in his SGC uniform and corrected himself. “Major Lorne.”

“Good to see you again, Dave.” Evan offered his hand. “Sorry it had to be on this occasion.”

“Given how little leave the Air Force grants you for whatever it is you’re doing - classified, I know - maybe this is what it took to get you boys home sooner.” Dave smiled wryly, then turned to Rodney. “And this must be Dr. McKay.” He offered a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor.”

“Please, Rodney.” Rodney shook his hand.

“Come on in,” Dave said. “We have rooms all set up. John, you and Rodney will be in your old bedroom. Evan, you’re in mine. The family viewing is tonight. Public wake is tomorrow.”

John nodded. “Thanks for putting us up.”

“You’re family,” Dave said firmly. His signs were textbook perfect. “You’re always welcome here.” He flicked his gaze toward Rodney. “All of you.”

John’s old bedroom was massive. It had obviously been cleaned up for their arrival, but it also obviously hadn’t been regularly lived in in years. There were old Johnny Cash posters up on the walls, a beautiful guitar on a stand in the corner, and the photographs on the nightstand and dresser were of a teen John and a teen Dave, and a woman Rodney would know anywhere.

Rodney dragged their duffel bags into the bottom of the closet and hung up their garment bags.

John sat on the edge of his old bed, holding a picture. It was of his family: mother, father, brother, him. He was maybe fourteen in the picture. They looked happy.

Someone stomped on the floor.

Rodney and John both looked up at the same time. Two girls stood in the doorway, one about eight, the other about six. They were both dark-haired and pretty and had familiar bright gray eyes.

“Uncle John!” They signed excitedly, practically dancing on the spot.

“Anna, Clara,” John said, finger-spelling their names and then using their name-signs - for Rodney’s benefit, he realized. “I’ve missed you both.” He crossed the room and knelt to hug them both.

“Who’s that with you? Where’s Mister Lorne?” Clara, the elder, eyed Rodney warily.

“Evan is unpacking his own things,” John said. “This is my boyfriend, Rodney. We’re stationed overseas together, doing research. He’s a scientist.”

“Hi, Mr. Rodney,” Clara said, using the name-sign John had shown her carefully. “You must be very smart.”

“The smartest man in two galaxies,” John said solemnly.

Anna’s eyes went wide. “Wow! Uncle John doesn’t think anyone is smart. Did you know, pretty much everyone who drives is an idiot? I hope I don’t become an idiot when I drive.”

John’s eyes went wide, for a totally different reason. His hands flew. “No, Anna, not _everyone_ who drives is an idiot -”

“At least the word she learned from you was ‘idiot’ and not something else.” Kathy Sheppard appeared in the doorway. “Hello, John.”

“Kathy.” Her name sign was Lady-K. John stepped forward and hugged her. Then he stepped back and gestured to Rodney. “This is -”

“The famous Rodney McKay. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kathy said. She was tall and graceful, handsome if not quite beautiful.

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” Rodney said, and he thought he saw something like approval flash in Kathy’s eyes when he signed as he spoke.

“We’re glad to finally be able to meet you. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Tonight it’s just us. Tomorrow the hordes descend.”

“Thanks,” John said. “We’ll wash up and be down.”

“Don’t worry about dressing for dinner,” Kathy said. “Not tonight.”

John nodded. As soon as she was out of earshot, Rodney turned to John. “What did she mean, dressing for dinner?”

“We were raised to dress nicely for dinner. It was archaic, but it was proper, and so we did it. I’m not surprised Dave raised his kids the same way. Kathy came from the same kind of family. It’s just how they do things. Not necessarily bad. I stopped doing it as soon as - as soon as I divorced Nancy, actually.” John shuffled into the ensuite bathroom to wash his hands.

Rodney followed so he could do the same. John had mentioned, in passing, that he’d been married when he was younger, that it hadn’t worked out. According to Evan, who’d divulged the information like Rodney was shoving bamboo skewers under his nails, John and Nancy had married in college and been together less than a year. They’d had no children and divorced quietly.

When Rodney stepped into the dining room and saw how massive the dining table was, he instantly imagined horrible formal childhood dinners with John and Dave on one end and their parents on the far other, barely talking to each other, but then he noticed that all of the places were set toward one end of the table.

Dave sat at the head, his wife to his right, John to his left, Rodney beside John, Evan beside Rodney, and Clara and Anna opposite.

John asked how the business was going, about old family acquaintances, how the girls were doing (they both expected him to take them riding while he was around). (The image of John in riding breeches and boots and one of those jackets almost made Rodney drop one of his many forks.) Kathy asked how John’s research was going, and the three of them answered as best as they could without dropping any classified details, which Kathy accepted with aplomb.

“I have to say,” Evan said, “working with Rodney and John has made me really, really regret not taking physics in high school. Or college. Or major school.”

Anna and Clara giggled at the notion of major school. They asked Evan questions about flying planes, which he answered cheerfully and with entertaining detail. Rodney could see John was dying to chime in, tell them about the puddle jumpers he could fly with his mind.

When the meal was finished, the girls dragged John out to the stables to get reacquainted with the horses.

“I have to say.” Rodney patted his stomach appreciatively. “We don’t get food nearly that good out where we’re stationed.”

At Kathy’s concerned look, Evan hastened to add, “The chef on base takes good care of us. But feeding that many people is pretty rough. Quality and quantity and all that.”

“Be straight with me,” Dave said. “How is John doing?”

Rodney blinked. Evan looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“I should go,” he said. “This is family business.”

Dave nodded, and Evan ducked out of the room.

“John is doing fine,” Rodney said. “Working hard on his research. Some really ground-breaking stuff. Might net him another Fields Medal if it weren’t so classified. Why?”

“I worry about him,” Dave said. “He’s so vague in his emails, more vague than the classified nature of your work requires. I know we’ve never had a great relationship, but I -”

“You can talk to him,” Rodney said. “He’s an adult. He’s spent a good chunk of his life taking care of himself. He’s perfectly capable of handling his own feelings.”

Dave raised his eyebrows.

Rodney amended, “He’s gotten better at it.”

“What makes you say that?” Dave asked.

“He talks to me sometimes,” Rodney said. “When it’s just us. I mean - he uses his voice.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, sat back. “I haven’t heard my brother’s voice since he was sixteen,” he said finally. “I told Dad he needed therapy, to see someone. The doctors said voluntary muteness as a trauma response wasn’t uncommon.” Dave caught Rodney’s gaze. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“He takes care of me right back,” Rodney said.

Dave smiled and acknowledged the point well-made.

“You should go see the horses,” Kathy said. “Patrick Sheppard had fine taste in horses.”

“I’d better apologize to Evan,” Dave said. “He’s been with John for such a long time, I keep forgetting his professional boundaries.”

These days Evan forgot them too, but being back on Earth always shifted their dynamics just a little bit.

When Rodney reached the stables, John and the girls were in one of the stalls, John combing down the horse while the girls fed it handfuls of oats. John was smiling as he pet the horse, and it was the first time he’d really smiled, without that edge of sadness, since Sam had delivered the news of Patrick Sheppard’s heart attack.

The girls told Rodney all about their own horseriding lessons, and how to take care of horses, and all the stories they’d heard of their Uncle John’s horseriding shenanigans when he was a teenager. Apparently John’s thrill-seeking hadn’t gone away - it had simply shifted from horses to puddle-jumpers.

Kathy came to find them close to evening to let them know that the casket was about to be delivered.

John curled his hand through Rodney’s and didn’t let go till they got back to the house. They showered and dressed in dark suits, and then they assembled in the parlor where the casket had been set, surrounded by expensive flower arrangements. Evan wore a dark suit as well.

Rodney obviously didn’t understand who counted as family, because more people than he thought entirely appropriate showed up. Most of them were distant relations, cousins and great-aunts and uncles. A few were close friends, some of the businessmen Patrick Sheppard had worked with on a daily basis. His long-time secretary. They all drifted past the casket, which was open for tonight but would be closed the next day. Rodney glanced at the too-still, waxy face and didn’t see any of John in it. He’d been surprised when Dave asked him to join the receiving line beside the casket. The girls were excused to sit in a corner, and Rodney found himself beside John, just as Kathy was beside Dave.

Rodney had never seen this side of John, poised, solemn, but not so solemn that he wasn’t charming. Everyone who came through the line greeted John fondly, shook his hand. More than one of them looked surprised when John introduced Rodney as his partner, which was apparently the more grown-up term than boyfriend, but they greeted Rodney politely as well. Evan was on hand to interpret as necessary.

Patrick Sheppard’s long-time secretary was a wizened old woman named Betty, and she dragged John into a hug, calling him _Sweet Little Johnny_ and planting kisses on his cheeks. She signed fluently, said he was a bad boy for never writing, and his new man was very handsome, and he needed to come visit her once she retired to Majorca. Apparently a lifetime of service at Sheppard Utilities warranted a great retirement package.

Rodney was overwhelmed by Betty’s attention, the way she pinched his cheeks and demanded to know if he was taking good care of John and what did the Air Force need so many scientists for anyway? He nearly missed the way John went very stiff beside him, and then John caught his elbow, hissed,

“Remember I told you about my ex-wife?”

Rodney nodded, shocked by the sound of John’s voice and unable to look away from Betty, who was patting his hand.

“She’s coming this way.”

Rodney spotted her immediately. He’d never seen a picture of her, though Evan had said she was pretty. She was beautiful, with glossy dark hair that fell around her shoulders in gentle waves. She was curvy beneath her black dress, slender. And she was staring at Rodney like she’d seen a ghost.

“Nancy,” Dave said, “so kind of you to come.”

“Patrick was always good to me,” she said. “Hello, Kathy.”

Kathy and Nancy exchanged those air kisses that Rodney had always associated with socialite women who hated each other, but Kathy’s expression was genuinely fond.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Nancy lowered her gaze for a moment.

“Thank you,” Dave said quietly.

“Evan,” Nancy said. “Still working with John?” She started signing as she spoke. Her hands were hesitant, unpracticed.

“For John, these days,” Evan said, signing as well. “After he got that Fields Medal and the Millennium Problem off the ‘unsolvable’ list, he tracked me down, and here I am.”

“Good to see you again,” Nancy said. “Wish it was under better circumstances.”

Evan bobbed his head. “Me too.”

And then Nancy was standing in front of John. There was an awkward pause, and then she pulled him into a stiff hug.

“I’m so sorry, John,” Nancy said, signing, and Rodney couldn’t help the bite of jealousy that went through him when she used his family name-sign.

“It was nice of you to come,” was John’s response; his expression was unreadable.

“Your father was always good to me.”

“In his mind, marrying you was one of the best things I ever did,” John said.

Nancy smiled wryly. “You two never really did see eye-to-eye.”

“So...how’s Greg?” John finger-spelled the name.

“Grant,” Nancy said, and John winced, the first sign of discomposure he’d displayed all evening. “He’s trying a case in Phoenix, or he’d have come.”

“Sounds like he’s doing well,” John said. “How’s the Pentagon these days? Still with Homeland Security?”

“I’m a director now,” she said.

Rodney wondered if she knew about the SGC at all.

“Congratulations,” John said. “This is Rodney McKay.”

Rodney offered a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Nancy.”

Nancy glanced at John. “I didn’t realize you -”

“Dated men?” John asked.

“Had found someone you could talk to,” she said, and there was history behind those words.

John curled his fingers through Rodney’s and squeezed briefly. “We work together.”

“Are you a mathematician as well?” Nancy asked, fixing her gaze on Rodney.

“Physicist, actually. But our work intersects on a regular basis.”

“Did you know Patrick well?”

“Our current posting only allows us two weeks of leave a year,” Rodney said. “I never had the chance.”

“Leave?” Nancy echoed.

“We’re doing research for the United States Air Force,” John said. “Remember Evan was in ROTC in college? He’s Major Lorne now.”

Nancy raised her eyebrows. “Major?”

“I’m saving the uniform for tomorrow,” Evan said. “It’s a nightmare to clean.”

“How long are you here for?” John asked.

“Just tonight and tomorrow, then I need to get back to Washington.”

“Thanks again for coming,” John said.

Nancy dipped her chin, smiled. “It was good to see you again. Nice to meet you, Rodney.”

And she moved on.

After all of the guests left, Kathy had the chef fix some snacks for the girls. Evan retired to his room (his services really weren’t necessary among family).

John said to Rodney, “I’m going to go say goodbye to my father, all right?”

Rodney nodded. The girls, who’d finished their snacks while Dave and Kathy were changing out of their formal clothes, came to ask John to play a game with them, but John was standing beside the casket, one hand on the lid, lips moving, hands still.

Rodney said, “I saw a really pretty piano in one of the other rooms. Do either of you play?”

“I’m learning the violin,” Clara said. “Mom says Anna can pick her instrument once she turns eight, too.”

“I play the piano,” Rodney said. “Want to go play some songs?”

Clara glanced back at John. “Does Uncle John know you play the piano?”

Rodney nodded. “I’ve played for him before.” Once. He’d never had the chance to do it again.

Anna frowned. “How does that work?”

“I’ll show you.”

Ten minutes later, John wandered into the room. Anna and Clara were pressed up against the sides of the grand piano, giggling while Rodney played a song from _Beauty and the Beast_. Both girls fell silent when they saw him, but John smiled and gestured for Rodney to keep playing, sat down on the piano bench beside him and watched his hands.

When Kathy and Dave came into the room moments later, both looking surprised and confused, they found John, Anna, and Clara all pressed up against the piano together while Anna and Clara chanted for Rodney to play faster, louder, as he pounded out the Star Wars theme at full speed.

When the song was done, Anna and Clara launched themselves at Rodney and begged him to play some more, but John glanced at his watch and said it was close to their bedtime, and also, it was his turn to ask Rodney to play songs.

“Tuck us in bed first,” Anna insisted, tugging on his wrist.

John glanced at Kathy and Dave.

“The girls have been excited to see you,” Kathy said. “Go. And don’t let them trick you into reading them more than one story.”

John smiled and nodded and let his nieces lead him out of the room.

As soon as the girls were out of earshot, Dave pulled Rodney into a hug.

Rodney flailed, caught off-guard, and also Dave was hugging him really tightly.

“I don’t know nearly enough about you,” Dave said quietly, “but I know you’re perfect for John. Thank you for being here with him. And welcome to the family.”

“Welcome,” Rodney said faintly, and Kathy said, “Dave, I think he can’t breathe.”

Dave stepped back and scrubbed a hand over his face, and Rodney realized he was about to cry. Kathy put a hand on Dave’s arm, started to lead him out of the room. She cast Rodney a smile, told him good night, and then Rodney was alone in John’s giant house. He sat back down at the piano and plunked out a tune, and kept an ear out for John’s footsteps.

John reappeared twenty minutes later, sans nieces. He closed the lid of the piano and draped himself across it, tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Aloud, he said, “My mother played the piano. One of her favorite songs was Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’.”

That was an easy song. Rodney played, and John wept silently, and when the song was done, they went back to their room, and John undressed Rodney slowly, and they made love as quietly as possible, and they fell asleep to each other’s breathing.


End file.
